Alternate
by Immorura
Summary: An AU story; Our favourite bounty hunter, Stephanie, is engaged to Dickie Orr and she meets Ranger under different circumstances- he kidnaps her.
1. Chapter 1

There were a few couples in my old neighbourhood who had had long engagements but I never thought I would be in one myself.

My name is Stephanie Plum.

I'm blue eyed, brown curly haired, work as a bond enforcement agent (or bounty hunter to simplify it) for my cousin Vinnie and I've been engaged for 6 years.

My fiancé, Richard _Dickie_ (don't ask) Orr, is a lawyer who is always- from what he tells me- tearing his hair out at his clients who don't show up for their court date. He's grey-eyed and dirty blond haired with a killer smile.

I always thought our relationship would make a great movie or TV series. I always liked to picture myself as the badass girlfriend/wife who tracks down the skips and hauls their no-good behinds down to the courtroom where my successful beau awaits.

The only catch was Dickie was hired by scary, brutish, mafia guys whom only professional bounty hunters go after. And by _professional_ I mean the 6 foot, toned and gun wielding type who can shoot a bullet through a cheerio 20 feet away.

Yes. My man is that good a lawyer- so good that it sometimes scares me…

Dickie proposed when I was 24.

Before that, I had lost my job and was about to be evicted by my pain-in-the-kisser landlord. I was not prepared to move back in with my parents so when he popped the question, it was as though all my worries had vanished.

I moved in with Dickie into a cute 4 bedroomed detached house complete with white picket fence with visions of me walking down the church isle in a beautiful white dress to meet my groom at the altar – And I'm still doing it 6 years later.

We had only gotten as far as putting the engagement ring on my finger and living together. We did make a few efforts to come up with some plans for the wedding but Dickie was always working none stop. He sometimes went without sleeping just to file some papers or go through some contracts.

Although, it was like Dickie himself had changed during our engagement. When I first met him, he was fresh out of law school, suave and outgoing. When he asked me out, I was hooked.

Now he was tense and always seemed to be on his toes; almost paranoid. His eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep and I caught him mumbling under his breath.

"Richard- Honey, are you okay?" I asked him once he got home on Monday night.

He dropped his briefcase next to the stairs before looking up at me with tired eyes. He gave me an empty smile. "Of course I am Sweetie-Cakes. Why wouldn't I be?"

I could tell he was lying. My favourite word is _cake_ and Dickie knows how to use it to his advantage to get around me- _Although I could use it as a lie-detector._

I didn't return the smile. "No you're not."

He tutted, "N'aw Steph, I know the law ain't easy but it's nothing I can't handle."

"Dickie, you're white as a sheet, your eyes are blood shot and have dark circles underneath them."

"C'mon Steph, I just got home. I'm fine."

I shook my head. "No you're not."

He gave a sigh. "Alright, I had a rough night last night. Now can you interrogate me later, _please Sweetie-Cakes?"_

He turned to head towards the kitchen but I was still not convinced.

"That's what you always say but I know there's something you're not telling me-"

He spun around suddenly to face me again; I had no time to react and before I knew it I was being shaken by my neck. His fingers dug into my skin while he screamed at me with a crazed look in his eye.

" _What do you know?! Have you been spying on me too?!"_

My brain finally kicked in after the shock when I struggled to breathe.

"Dickie you're hurting me!" I yelled as I tried to pry his hands off me.

Dickie jumped as though I had stung him. He stared at me, his eyes wide with shock and his mouth hanging open while I gasped lung fulls of air.

" _Stephanie…"_ He whispered. _"I…I…I'm so sorry…."_

He wrapped his arms around me and held me close to him. "I don't know what got into me there…"

I looked up at him. "See? You're working too hard. It's making you nuts!"

He sighed and let go off me whilst running his hands through his hair. "You're right. I have a new client. I can't discuss any details but…I've…I've never had a case like this before…"

I breathed out a groan. "At least tell me it's important or give me a clue to how serious it is, Honey. I worry about you."

He looked at me and smiled gently before pulling me into another hug. "Okay then. I'll remember that."

.

.

.

When I woke up the next morning, Dickie had already left for work.

I got up, showered, threw on some comfy clothes and grabbed my car keys before driving to the bonds office.

"Mornin' Steph," Connie, Vinnie's office manager greeted me as I walked through the door. "I got some easy cash for ya t'day."

Connie was like a human version of Betty Boop, only she carried a gun and showed a lot more cleavage in a red low-cut mini dress.

Lula, my best friend and sometimes partner, stood up from the couch she had long claimed as her own. "I had a look through those files an' I saw tha' no good Tubby guy who fell off his roof last summer is at it again an' I got a bone t' pick wi' him. He threw icky white stuff on my good shoes!"

Lula was a plus sized African-American woman who performed the miracle of squeezing herself into size 10 animal prints and neon spandex and changed her hair colour and style every week.

Today she had her hair wrapped in a lilac bun which went well with her purple leopard print spandex dress and matching heels.

During the time I've known Lula, I learned that she loved her food and clothes so that meant you never called her _fat_ or did something to offend her sense of fashion.

"You've got more shoes then me and it's only one pair." I said, glancing down at my 3 year old sneakers.

"Yeah but I loved those shoes. They went with nearly half my wardrobe and that little cu-"

The main door opened before any cursing broke out. I turned to see none other than Officer Joseph Morelli.

"Easy on the cussing, Lula, I've had a night of it from a gang of teenagers at the station."

I've known Morelli all my life. He's of pure Italian heritage with black hair, dark eyes and toned stud muscle.

He helped relieve me of my virginity when I was 16 on a bakery floor which caused me to run him over in my grandma's car 3 years later.

After a while we laughed about it and started dating. But by the time I was 22 we decided it was better if we just stayed friends after some (loud) debating whether we could stand each other as boyfriend and girlfriend.

"Hey Cupcake," He turned to me with his signature suave smile but frowned suddenly. "Stephanie what happened to your neck?!"

I blinked at him. "Huh?"

"You've got blue and purple marks around your throat."

Lula walked over and peered at me. "Lord almighty he's right! Steph, what the hell happened? It looks as though someone tried to throttle you!"

The incident from last night replayed through my mind.

"Oh…well…"

Morelli's hands were on my shoulders. "Who was it Cupcake? Say the word and I'll have their ass at the station."

"Joe, there's no need." I said brushing him off. "It was an accident. Dickie got in late last night and-"

"Dickie?! As in, _you're fiancé, Dickie?!"_ Connie spluttered, her mouth hanging open. "Accident or no accident Stephanie, he shouldn't lay a finger on you! It's bad enough tha-"

She stopped herself in midsentence before I could interrupt her.

"It's been dealt with already. He's been missing out on sleep because of his new client and when I kept asking him about it he lost control. He didn't hurt me. I didn't even notice I had marks on my neck."

All 3 pairs of eyes were fixed on me in an awkward silence. Connie, however, looked guilty.

.

.

.

I got home earlier than planned after I cashed my cheques in at the bank. Dickie's car wasn't in the driveway so that meant I was eating alone tonight.

I threw my bag at the bottom of the staircase before heading up to the bedroom. I kicked off my shoes and changed into an oversized t-shirt and a pair of leggings before heading back down to re-heat some left overs.

But as I stepped out on to the landing, a hand covered my mouth and an arm wrapped around my waist. My screams were muffled and I helplessly lashed out as my hostage-taker dragged me over to the opposite wall.

He turned me around and pressed my back to it so I was met with a pair of brilliant brown eyes of a Hispanic man.

He was about 6"3, had mocha-latte brown skin and long black hair tied back into a pony tail. His incredible muscle frame was clad in a black t-shirt, black cargo-pants and black lace up boots along with a gold loop earring in his left ear.

His hand was still over my mouth as he spoke. "If you keep quiet, it will make things a lot easier. Okay?"

My heart was pounding against my ribcage and I was shaking like a leaf, but I managed to make a hasty nod so he uncovered my mouth.

"I don't have any cash and there's nothing valuable in the house!" I blurted out, my eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets.

The man shook his head. "I'm not here for cash. I'm here for you."

A lump formed in my throat as my body was suddenly paralysed. " _No…please don't…"_

His eyes softened. "I'm not going to hurt you, but I do need to take you to-"

I ran passed him before he could finish. I headed towards the stairs but skidded to a halt when I nearly bumped into another guy who was like a walking building – 6/7 foot-whatever with bulging biceps and blocking the stairs.

I stared frozen and wide-eyed at him as he looked down at me with considerate eyes. He turned to the other man.

"Boss, we should have done this the old fashioned way. Look at her, she's terrified."

"We both know she wouldn't have cooperated, Tank." I nearly screamed when I heard the first man speak behind me. "And we don't have enough time as it is."

I backed away from them; my breathing coming out in heavy pants. I felt lightheaded.

They both looked at me as I switched my eyes from one to the other.

"Please make sure I don't swallow my tongue…" I said.

And then I fainted.


	2. Chapter 2

I woke up feeling like I had been chewing sawdust.

I groaned and sat myself up before feeling my whole body freeze. My eyes darted around all over the place.

… _Where the hell am I?_

I was sitting on a queen sized bed with starch white bed sheets in a very simple furnished bedroom; a combined wardrobe and chest of drawers and two nightstands with a table lamp on either side of the bed. The walls were painted a dark blue; almost blueberry with a black carpet across the floor. There was a small window to my right with midnight blackout curtains and gave a great view of the brick wall of the building opposite.

I tried to remember what had happened before I passed out.

I was at home... I had changed my clothes… I was heading towards the kitchen… _Then there were two strange men on the landing…_

My heart beat started to increase. They could've done anything while I was unconscious. I leapt to my feet and examined myself.

I was fully clothed in the same leggings and t-shirt, my underwear was still on and there were no bruises or scratches or needle marks on me.

I went towards the only door in the room but when my hand brushed the doorknob, I hesitated.

 _It could have been locked… My kidnappers could have been on the other side…_

Biting the bullet, I turned the knob and the door swung open. I walked through into a small living room with a combined kitchen which made my jaw hit the ground. The whole place was designed like a luxurious penthouse. It was bright and spotlessly clean; not a fingerprint or hair to be seen.

I found two more doors. One led to a small bathroom; immaculate white. The other led me into a long hall way.

At one end was a dead end; at the other was another door with a narrow window you would find on a fire security door.

On the other side I found a large office-type room. It was coloured steel grey with a load of tall, big and beefy guys walking around or sitting at desks and computers. They all looked up as I came in; their eyes bulged out of their sockets and their mouths hung open. I stood rooted to the spot awkwardly with my eyes darting around.

"Uhhhh…" I raised my hand and gave a little finger wave. "Hi."

There was a tense silence before loud footsteps echoed in the room.

The big building of a guy who was at my house came over to me. He was dressed in a black shirt, pants, and a pair of enormous boots that I could stand in with both my feet inside. There was gold embroidery on his shirt which said _Rangeman._

Despite his intimidating size, he gave me a warm smile. "Hey." He frowned when he noticed the gaping men. "Would you stop staring? She's just a lady. Nothing you haven't seen in movies or in magazines."

They all dropped their eyes to their computers.

The smile returned. "You've been out the entire night. We were worried we might have scared you into a coma." He held out his hand. "The name's Pierre but call me Tank."

I shook his hand. " _Tank?_ "

It suited him better than his real name.

Tank shrugged. "It's an old army nickname that automatically stuck." He gave me an apologetic look. "I'm sorry for the intrusion, Ms Plum. But I can assure you, you're in no danger."

Somehow, I wasn't surprised that he knew my name. "Call me Stephanie. Where am I?"

"Rangeman… _You're still in New Jersey_." He added quickly.

"Rangeman?"

"This is my boss' security company; he owns another in Boston. Most of us are bounty hunters, like yourself, but we also deal with other crimes such as arson…drug trafficking…terrorism…Mafia gangs… _I swear I will turn a hose on you!_ "

The men in the room had started to stare again but turned away at Tank's bellow.

"I see. But why did you bring me here?" I asked.

Tank grimaced as he chose his words. "I think it would be better if I let my boss explain, he'll be down in about an hour. In the meantime can I get you anything? You've been unconscious for some time." He glanced at my bare feet. "Slippers? Socks?"

Now that he mentioned it, my feet were starting to feel cold. "Yeah and I wouldn't mind some coffee if it's not too much trouble."

He smiled. "Of course it's not. Follow me."

I was sitting in a monochrome lounge with a steaming mug of creamy coffee and a pair of thick woollen socks on my feet. Tank had left a plate of cookies and a couple of magazines while I waited for whoever _boss_ was.

Not long after I had finished my coffee, the back of my neck started to tingle…

I looked over my shoulder and I was met with the same pair of brilliant brown eyes from last night. The first man I encountered at home stood over me; his face hard and unreadable.

"Ms. Plum." He said tonelessly. "Would you come with me, please?"

I gave a single nod when I stood up and followed him into another room. I felt a mixture of emotions stirring through me; _anger, uncertainty, confusion…frustration…_

We entered a black and silver office with a desk, computer, a couple of arm chairs and a great view from the window of what I recognised as Haywood.

"First of all, I probably should apologise for last night." The man said, sitting behind his desk while motioning for me to take a seat.

I sat down with folded arms. "It would be nice to know the name of my kidnapper."

He frowned at me. "Ricardo Carlos Manoso. I either go by Carlos or by my street name, _Ranger."_

 _Ranger…That sounded totally sexy…wait what?_

"As I was saying, we had to have you come with us for your own protection and, hopefully, for some information about Richard Orr."

 _Dickie?_ What the hell?! I don't think I should trust this guy.

"My fiancé? What for? He's just a lawyer. He hasn't done anything wrong."

Ranger looked at me for a beat. "Then why did he strangle you?"

I stared at him. "How did you know that?"

"For starters, you have bruises around your neck. Also, we have been informed."

I blinked at him. "He didn't mean too. He had been working non-stop for a new client and when I kept pestering him about it, he lost control."

"That's hardly an excuse."

"Neither is kidnapping to obtain information!"

He leaned forward on his desk. "But I haven't told you why you were brought here."

"And that would be?"

"We believe that Orr has been harbouring dangerous criminals and fugitives for some time. We're talking about people who are in league with the black market and mafia who trade illegal drugs, weapons and even prostitutes."

 _No way in hell would Dickie even think of doing that!_ I wanted to scream, but I remained calm and asked, "What makes you suspect my fiancé is dealing with such people?"

I wasn't going to get anywhere if I told him he was out of his mind.

"There are a number of reasons, Ms. Plum. For instance, some electronic messages such as emails and texts containing information about some fugitives have all been traced recently to your current address. True, it is not concrete evidence, but it does give us reason to suspect him."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Anything else I should know?"

The corners of his lips twitched ever so slightly. "I suppose there's no harm in knowing that we have been following your fiancé." He didn't say anything else. He tore his eyes off of me for a second. "For how long?" I pressed on.

He looked back up at me. "For as long as you've been engaged to him I suppose."

My eyes bulged. "You've been following him for 6 years?!"

Ranger raised an eyebrow. "Yes, but shouldn't you be more concerned that you aren't married to him yet?"

Imaginary steam blew out of my ears. "We both have busy lives! You don't even know anything about me!"

A smirk pulled at his lips. "You'd be surprised what I know, Ms. Plum."

I felt a frosty chill run over my skin. "… _Like what?"_

He leaned back in his chair. "You were born and raised in Trenton. You have an older sister named Valerie and three nieces; Angie, Mary-Alice and Lisa. Your parents are Frank and Helen Plum. Your father was in the army for a short time, is retired from the post office and occasionally works as a cab driver. Your grandmother, Edna Mazur, has lived with your parents since the death of your grandfather. You worked at the bakery when you were 16. You dated Trenton Police Detective, Officer Joseph Morelli for a short time, you lost your job selling women's underwear…and your favourite word is _cake._ "

I could only stare at him in horror. _Who the hell was this guy?!_

"Ms. Plum?" Ranger asked after a while had passed when I went into a state of shock. "Would it make you feel more comfortable if you knew anything about me?"

I snapped out of it and shrugged. _"Sure, why not?"_

He smiled slightly. "Very well, I grew up in Newark with my parents, brother and 4 sisters. I stole cars when I was 14. After I got out of juvie, my parents sent me to Miami. I joined the army after 2 years at Rutgers. I was married briefly and I have a daughter who still lives in Florida with her mother."

 _Alright…at least we're even…_ What he shared with me seemed very personal.

"Moving back to the subject," Ranger said while taking out his cell phone and tapping at the screen. "Whether you agree to help us or not, you'll be staying here for your own safety until we have what we need to confirm our allegations."

I scoffed. "Huh, and there's me thinking that you were going to interrogate me. Well, Mr. Manoso, after being taken from my home against my will, I highly doubt that you'll get any information from me. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't tell you anything."

"And why's that?"

"Because Richard can't tell me anything about his clients, it's all confidential."

He looked at me as though I had grown an extra head. "Ms. Plum, _you are_ a bounty hunter, correct?"

"Yeah…"

"Tell me, how do you obtain information about your FTAs?"

"I'm given a file about them to read; name, date of birth, address, mugshot, description and next of kin."

"Has your fiancé had any clients who have gone FTA?"

"Yeah, tons of times but I don't go after them." I felt a surge of irritation. " _More experienced_ agents do."

"Even so, if you are a bounty hunter yourself why would he have to keep his clients' cases a secret, even from you?"

I couldn't answer that…

 _I never even thought of that…_

I had to admit defeat but I wasn't going to tell _him_ that; especially when I felt my heart being crushed in the brutal fist of _wake up, Stephanie and use your brains._

"Can you at least tell me how you know so much about me?"

" _Because I told him everything, Cupcake."_


End file.
